


The Sparkle of Magic

by Mischel



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon Returns, Bromance, But everyhing in the show happened, Gen, Magic, Modern Era, Not AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:51:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6847828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischel/pseuds/Mischel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about Arthur's return :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sparkle of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> This is my old Merlin Anniversary Fanfiction (the 6th anniversary in 2014). I hope you'll like it :)  
> Oh and I'm not native speaker, so sorry if something doesn't make sense.

It was almost night. Another awful night without his best friend in the world that has changed so much. No castles, no magic, no kings and queens. Everything was buried deep in the past. But not everything was gone. He still carried it in his heart. All his memories of the time of magic, that was once again restored in Camelot. He had his hope and faith. And as long as he had it, he wouldn't be lost. He knew that the time wasn't long to come. He knew that one day the Once and the Future King will rise again and rejoin him.

He was walking along a street. One of many streets in one of many cities that once were streets and cities of Albion. Once. The Sun was slowly going down, but still a few hours were left before the sun will touch the horizon and hide itself, sending the last golden light into the streets and then the night will overwhelm that land.

The young warlock wasn't young anymore. He was old almost as the time itself. At least for him it felt like the eternity. However, he still kept his young face. He didn't want to look old. He was too afraid Arthur wouldn't recognise him. And in the young face he felt more like himself.

The warm wind was gently playing with his raven black hair. He had a new brown jacket, he had to buy a few months ago. He had blue shirt with a new red neckerchief around his neck. He had this new one a few years now. His old one was lost a few hundred years ago and he had to buy a new one every few decades. Still it felt a bit strange to have this one around his neck. He got used to call it 'a new one', even when he had it almost for 12 years. He missed his old clothes. Most of all his red neckerchief.

If you'd be there in that moment and would look at him, you would probably think that he's just a young man as many others. With blood pumping through his veins, desperate for some adventure. Excitement. But if you'd come closer, you would have the chance to notice his oddly blue eyes. They seemed strange. Somehow old. Much older than they were supposed to be. As if they had faded into a shadow and just a big sorrow - bluish grey had replaced them. Their sparkle, sparkle of life, was long gone.

Still he carried on. He had to.

He was the greatest sorcerer ever to walk the Earth and he still had his destiny to fulfil.

He walked along some street and was thinking of what to do. It was evening and usually he'd come back home now, but he wasn't tired yet. And he was enjoying the feeling of wind blowing onto his face and hair. When he closed his eyes, it somehow made him feel as if nothing changed. As if everything was alright, and as if he was still there, with Gaius, knights and Gwen, in Camelot. With _Arthur._

Then, when he opened his eyes again, the comfortable feeling of being home died in an instant and all what was left was just that awful feeling of loneliness, cold and emptiness and that desperate urge to just roar and cry and cry and cry. And he knew he did that so many times before - he cried. At home, beside the lake, in the forest. Wherever he missed them and something was reminding him of them. Of his home.

His eyes filled with tears, but then his eyes landed on something he didn't see for many years. It was a word. A simple word. That word was so familiar to him, it was _him,_ his core. The word filled him with some reassurance, as if the feeling of home returned for a second and he could see it, hear it, all around him, just for a second though. But he was afraid what this word meant in this new foreign world. He feared what people _made_ it to mean.

_Magic._

He came closer to the poster, hanging on a wall of one near house. It was an invitation to a show called 'Sparkle of Magic'. Merlin wondered how it would look like now. How magic looked like now. He knew magic was no longer the magic he knew, the Magic he was. And then he found out that the show was that evening, in about twenty minutes, in the next street.

He smiled a bit. It was his first smile in a long time. He knew that almost all sorcerers were dead now. Maybe a few people would still be out there with the magic abilities. But probably none of them knew what they were capable of. So maybe he was the last warlock in this world. As he always was in the last two hundred years. Still, he wanted to see magic by someone else than him. Even when it wasn't the real magic. But he just felt as if he should go and see it. He somehow needed to.

And so he went to the end of the street, turned a corner and saw a few people, heading towards an opened door. He walked with them and got inside.

There was a hall. And as all other people, Merlin walked with them. Old, tired, eager to see at least a bit of his old world, of magic. He went through another door and then he saw many tables. The tables filled the whole room but left a small place in front of the stage. He sat to one of them and waited patiently as he had to learn during those hundred years of waiting for his king to return.

And then, then it finally started. The 'Sparkle of Magic', and Merlin watched, he simply watched.

As soon as the 'oh so great magician' did his first spell and the audience started clapping, Merlin's eyes filled with hot tears. The man in front of him was no sorcerer. He was an insult for the magic-filled world where Merlin was born. Where magic actually meant something to people. To him. This, This was nothing compared to what Merlin was able to do. But Merlin didn't even know what had he expected. He didn't know if he thought that the man would be a real wizard. He didn't know if he thought that he might see actual magic in here, He just wanted to feel like home. To feel warm i his heart as he felt when he was with Arthur. Not like now. He felt disgusted.

Everything in there reminded him of the old world, of his friends and how much he missed them. How desperate was he to get it back. At least Arthur. Arthur was everything for him. Everything he ever needed. The whole place reminded him of Camelot, nights spent together in tavern, or all those picnics and hunting trips with his friends. Family. Everything.

The man on the stage showed them some cards and then guessed the right one. That reminded him of the last night in Camelot with Arthur in the tavern. When they played a game of dice and he won. That was because he cheated. He used his magic. But they were still together and they were home. They were still happy.

Then the man pulled a white rabbit from his hat and people kept clapping their hands and laughing. That reminded him of the day, when he and Arthur got lost and were heading to Camelot. Merlin saw those two rabbits on the way and went to them. Before he touched them Arthur shouted his name and hugged him from behind to protect him and to drag him away, because he knew it was a trap. And then they spent the whole night, trapped in the net. Another memory Merlin liked to think about. Because he was still with his friend. And now his friend was gone.

And then the man took a big box and placed some young girl inside. He took a sword and cut the box in two parts. People gasped, but the girl was still alive and they started clapping again. The man let the girl go then and she headed back to her boyfriend, hugged him and they were both smiling. Merlin smiled a bit. They were still together. They were happy. He was alone. He was sad. Devastated. He didn't feel like himself anymore.

The man showed some more poor magic tricks without real magic and Merlin started to feel something. His magic. It stirred inside him, waking up after a long time. He used his magic yes, but only when he was alone and he used it very little. He knew he needed to use his magic more, more freely. His soul needed it to feel better. But he couldn't do anything bigger than just let the broom sweeping the floor itself or let a few things fly. But he needed more and his magic knew it. He knew it. He felt it inside.

But his magic apparently decided that he needs to use his magic more right now. He felt it flowing through his whole body. From his heels to the tips of his fingers. He felt it everywhere. In his head, hands, legs, hair. In his eyes. And he couldn't control it. He was mitigating his magic for too long. And he was fed up with it. Fed up with everything. He just wanted to let everything go.

Suddenly he stood up louder than he wanted to and looked around. He felt the eyes of all the people looking at him, confused. Merlin looked at his hands, with tears in eyes, and then looked back at the audience and then at the man on the stage. The time suddenly slowed down and Merlin could sence everything, feel everything. The fly in the corner of the room, the magician's fake cards hidden in his sleeve, the boy's crossed fingers behind his back as he still hoped his girlfriend was alright.

Everything.

How much he missed this. That feeling. His blue eyes glowing gold again after such a long time. And he smiled.

Suddenly as if he realized something important, something more and he found himself running out of the building. He ran and ran as fast as he possibly could. He ran through the city, through the streets, through the end of the city and he didn't stop till he reached a meadow near the forest where he used to meet Kilgharrah. The dragon was long dead and this was one of very few places that stayed and weren't destroyed by the technology or people. He stopped for a second, smiling, with adrenalin and magic pumping through his veins. He knew he was close. He started running again till he finally reached a lake. That lake.

Avalon.

He stopped and fell on the ground made of soft grass, exhausted. He closed his eyes. Everything was always connected to this lake. Even he was. He could feel it in the lake, grass, water, the air, sky. The nature. He could feel the life itself. Maybe the only thing that didn't change. This lake reminded him of every single failure he's ever made.

Freya.

Lancelot.

Elyan.

... _Arthur._

They all ended in the water. And they all died because of his mistakes. It was all here, all of his memories. Merlin's eyes filled with tears again and he didn't try to stop them. He started to cry, big tears streaming down his red wet cheeks. They were on his lashes, mirroring the previous ones not a long time ago. He missed his home. He missed his friends, his family. But most of all, he missed his other half. He missed _Arthur_.

He felt his magic pumping through his veins, through his whole body, and he couldn't help it. He just had to use it. He had to remember how it feels to use magic to do something big. How it feels to be magic. How it feels to be home again. And then he did it. He didn't even think about it, he just did it. It came from him. He made the water to rise in the air, just a few metres, but then the water fell down suddenly and he fell on the ground.

"What?" Whispered he. "What the hell was that?" His magic suddenly stopped working. " _Upastige draca!_ " He said then. But nothing happened. This was really weird. He suddenly didn't feel his magic, as if it was ripped from him. As if it never existed. He started to fear a lot. He didn't know what was happening. And then suddenly his magic came back in a rushing wave, the biggest wave Merlin has ever experienced. It knocked him out for a few seconds and lifted him in the air. He was completely confused. That wasn't him. He wasn't doing that.

His hands were glowing and he felt his eyes flashing gold again, more gold. He felt like a star. A big white light, flying in the air. And then it all stopped. He was layed down carefully, and he stopped glowing. But he felt much stronger. Stronger than ever before. As if the world gave him the full control over magic. The full control over everything. Like a sparkle of magic. As if the world was getting him ready for something. Something big. Something that was about to come soon. He smiled.

And that was when he saw it. That big something. After a thousand years, he saw a hand rising from the water, holding the sword he threw there. Merlin's eyes filled with tears as he was slowly realizing what this all meant. He wiped his tears away with his sleeve immediately. He wanted to see everything. He didn't want to miss even a second. The hand was still rising and rising till the shoulder in a chainmail was seen. And it kept rising up. Merlin legs started shaking and the world's biggest smile ever appeared on his face, because he saw a head with golden hair coming out of the water.

He started running. He ran to the water, not bothering about his clothes. Arthur was back. He was coming back. Finally after all those years, he was returning home. To Merlin. Arthur started to move forward. He was deep in the water and he wanted to the shore, obviously. He put his sword, the legendary sword, into the scabbard on his hip and looked up. Merlin was running to him, as fast as he could through the water and when Arthur saw him, he smiled.

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted and a sob stopped him from shouting again. Arthur smiled even more, recognising his best friend.

"Merlin?" he said, going faster. "Merlin!" He shouted and started running too. In a few seconds, they met. Merlin immediately threw his arms around his friend's wet and cold shoulders and buried his head in the crook of Arthur's neck.

"Arthur..." He whispered and tightened the hug, clinging to him as if he was his life force. And maybe he was. Arthur happily returned the hug, pulling Merlin closer with his arms on Merlin's back. "I thought I might never see you again," Merlin cried and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. They were still deep in the water, only their heads and shoulders were seen, but they didn't care. They found each other again. Merlin inhaled again, smelling Arthur scent after all that time.

"I'm here Merlin," Arthur smiled and tightened the hug even more. "It's okay, I'm not gonna leave you again." He whispered to Merlin's ear. He felt Merlin's shoulders shaking. And he wasn't ashamed when he found his own eyes filling with tears. And he certainly wasn't going to call Merlin a girl when he saw him crying now. He didn't know what happened but Merlin seemed pretty much not okay. And he was there to give his friend comfort. He was going to make Merlin feel like home again.

*The End*


End file.
